


the honesty in your body

by Laroyena



Series: Mamabird Universe [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sex, Bat Family, Crack, Dick being Tim's big bro, Dubious Consent, Feral Behavior, Fuck Or Die, Horny Teenagers, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past Underage, Porn, Protective Parents, Rough Sex, because of first times, comics and cartoons shamelessly mixed together, in the epilogue, the brudick thing, tim was fifteen when it all started, with minimal plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laroyena/pseuds/Laroyena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luthor's tech saved Kon's life at the cost of his mind. Tim must take a feral Kon across space to restore his humanity... which is just as difficult as one may think.</p><p>(Batman Omegaverse AU: unabashed TimKon porn detailing their original get-together in their early teens to their definite get-together in their late teens. But mostly porn.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is their get-together; Chapter 2 is the space adventure.
> 
> This work, like my other DCU works, shamelessly cuts and pastes events from different universes and in the wrong order. Deep apologies in advance. The most obvious one is that the Superboy Prime event and Kon's "death" happened shortly before Damian came to Gotham, when in the comics the events were years apart. This is mostly due to trying to fit this story into the rest of the Mamabird universe. It helps to read the first fic, but tl:dr Dick is Damian's mother whom Talia had kidnapped as a baby. Dick thought Damian was dead. Bruce didn't know Damian existed. Drama was had.
> 
> This fic spun off from the convenient excuse that Tim was off in space with Kon and was therefore not present for the ensuing shit show. This was what Tim was doing.
> 
> Also Luthor is much less of an asshole in this 'verse, leaning more towards the "good/decent parent" Luthor that appears in some Superboy variations. And this Superboy was mostly inspired by the YJ one (the one I know best) because that one feral!superboy episode gave me lots of PWP ideas... though undercut!Conner makes an a brief appearance as well.

“ _Kon!_ ” Tim screamed, catapulting off a nearby roof and rushing to the broken body lying in the center of the crater. Cassie was already by the boy's side, but moved out of the way when Tim scrambled up to his alpha. “Kon, _Kon_ —”

“He’s gone,” Cassie sobbed, and Tim. Tim couldn’t. He pressed his hands to Kon’s sickly unresponsive neck, his bruised skin, and shook until he couldn’t shake anymore.

And then Luthor swooped in—how _dare he_ —and wrestled Kon’s body away from Tim’s hold. Not for lack of trying: Tim snarled and scrabbled against that impenetrable metal armor, but he and the rest of the Titans were too weak to do much else.

Luthor smacked Tim to the ground with a heavy, robotic hand. The last thing Tim could think of before falling unconscious was how it wasn’t _fair_. Kon was his.

Kon had been his from the beginning, and he’d be damned if he just let Luthor take him away again.

\--

The first time they met, Tim and Kon fucked against the steel door of the boy’s Cadmus development chamber.

“Hey!” Tim snapped when the other teenager hitched him completely up against the door, forcing both of Tim’s feet off the ground and around this maddening alpha’s waist. Alpha because Tim could’ve sensed it rolling off this boy from a mile away. He exuded it from every pore. “Let me _go_ , damn you—”

“Quiet,” the boy whispered, proving that this crazy clone could talk after all. Tim hadn’t meant to open his pod without backup, and they’d been in the middle of a vicious fistfight when the guy apparently just _lost his mind._ He tilted his head and gnawed on Tim’s earlobe, giving the omega perfect access to his neck and—

Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck. He smelled amazing. Addicting. Tim gasped and clutched the boy’s thick shoulders. Tilted his neck and shivered when the boy let out a pleased croon before trailing his teeth down his chin, and _this was insane_.

He should kick the goddamn alpha off him right now and tase him into submission. Enact any Bat maneuver between two and seven, all of which would’ve allowed him to escape the chamber and shut the door behind him.

Except Tim was hornier than he’d ever been in his fifteen years and he couldn’t _stop_.

Which was how, in a flurry of pants and boxers being shed and Tim seemingly getting every erogenous zone licked within the inch of his life, he found himself pressed face-first into the door. Had his legs spread open, and _Jesus_. Tim was astonished at how soaked he was down there. And then one moment the alpha’s hands were curiously stroking his hole, and the next a cockhead was pressing inside him.

Tim yelped, because wet or not he still needed _prep_. “Ow!” he reached his hand back and scrabbled against the boy’s shoulder. He found his wrist pinned and the alpha mercilessly continued to shove himself inside. “ _Ow_! Slow—slow down—”

He let out a pained whine when the boy fully seated himself inside. Everything hurt, and it hurt even worse when the alpha dragged his stupid cock out and then shoved it right back in again. The boy huffed his frustration into his ear. Thrust a few more agonizing times before Tim’s shaking became too distracting.

He stopped, and Tim immediately yanked himself off the alpha’s cock. He plastered his back to the door and tried to tamp down his panic.

“Why?” the boy said, honestly puzzled at Tim’s sudden reluctance.

“It _hurt_ ,” Tim snapped past the tears. Felt his knees shaking and forcibly stopped them. “You can’t just _shove it in_ , you’re gonna tear me open—”

“Than what,” the boy crowded close to him. Even through the pain he smelled delicious.

“You have to stretch me first,” Tim managed, “Fingers.”

“Waste of time,” the other boy growled, but then obediently pressed large hands under each buttock and stroked through the slick around Tim’s hole with his thumbs. Tim winced when he just shoved two thick fingers inside, but it was more bearable than an entire alpha cock.

He felt the boy’s breath puffing against his chest, against his nipple, and then the boy was nibbling at him again. Licking and kissing like he finally remembered how much Tim had liked that moments ago, and Tim couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation. Couldn’t help but be distracted from the burn at his entrance, especially when the alpha finally seemed to find Tim’s neglected cock and stroke it curiously with his free hand.

“It feels good under the—” Tim gasped, because that was a third rough finger and he was starting to feel strangely full. Not cripplingly painful though. “Under the head, just—no, further up. Right there.”

“Does it hurt,” the alpha said, rubbing Tim’s twitching cock with one hand and finger-fucking his ass with the other, and Tim’s breath was starting to shorten. That heady horny feeling he’d gotten the moment the alpha had scented him was coming back with a vengeance.

“No,” Tim whined, and barely reacted when the alpha slipped his fingers out and spread his legs wide. This time, he was ready for the boy’s thick cock. Twitched at the almost-too-much slide inside him, the incomprehensible feeling of being so _full._ He buried his face into this strange alpha’s neck and let out small, hitched gasps as the alpha drew back and began to thrust into him.

Ruthlessly, deeply, and with an animalistic edge to it. Hitting Tim in a strange tingling spot inside every time, and Tim wasn’t sure what the hell he was feeling. Not until his toes were curling and he was gasping with surprise as he came harder than he’d ever come in his life. The alpha let out a full-blown growl at how the omega shivered in his arms. Spread his legs impossibly wider and fucked into him so hard Tim felt like the world was spinning.

“Ah—” he mewled, bracing a hand against the boy’s shoulder and letting himself be brutalized. “Ah, you’re—you’re going too _fast_ —”

“You enjoyed it,” the alpha ran a rough hand over Tim’s spent cock, and the omega bit his chin in response. The boy growled, low and angry, and then shoved his swollen knot past his abused rim. Tim hissed at the sudden sting, fingernails digging into near-impenetrable skin, and then the boy was coming inside of him.

It was obscenely warm. Obscene in general. The alpha groaned as he came again, and Tim stroked the boy’s face while he recovered in his lap.

Dark hair and pale blue eyes. The superman symbol carved into his white top. Super-strength, most obviously. Cadmus had been experimenting with cloning; ergo, this was Superman’s clone? He let out a small noise when the boy grabbed his hip possessively. Pulled him tight against him, like they could get any physically closer than his alpha cock knotted into his ass.

“Well,” Tim managed, feeling his dignity returning the more the endorphins wore off. The shame was probably going to hit him later. “That was kind of nice.”

The alpha had the hilarious gall to look offended. “ _Kind of?_ ”

Tim patted his cheek. “You lose points for making me cry, big guy.”

“Conner,” the boy said, and look, Tim had a name to put to the alpha that was currently stealing his virginity. Had stolen his virginity? When did the sex officially end—after orgasm or after the knot went down?

He’d ask Dick, but then he’d never be able to look the man in the eye again.

“Conner,” Tim repeated. “Well Conner, I’m sure you’re a perfectly reasonable boy when you’re not trapped underground in a laboratory cloning pod. Not the type to attack every unwitting omega, I should hope.”

“What’s your name,” Conner said flatly, ignoring everything else. One-track mind, this one.

“Tim,” Tim said, surprising even himself when his real name fell from his lips rather than his superhero one.

“ _Tim_ ,” Conner repeated. He looked thoughtful. “Tim, Tim, Tim…”

“Yes, that’s me,” Tim said dryly, and the alpha looked a second away from asking something else when a loud banging erupted from the door behind him. Tim jumped, which was nothing to Conner swooping in and gathering Tim in his arms. He hid him under his bulk like some dainty omega in a prehistoric drama, and Tim would’ve found it hilarious if the banging wasn’t followed by Cassie’s voice.

“Tim!” the alpha girl called out, “Are you in there? Tell me you’re in there, Bart’s going ballistic looking for you everywhere else. We have to go! Luthor’s here and he’s _pissed_.”

“Um,” Tim said intelligently, because he was still firmly knotted in Conner’s lap. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“What?” Cassie said—which was when the door blasted open and everything went to hell.

\--

“Your neck,” Bruce Wayne commanded when Tim finally dragged himself back to Gotham and through the Manor doors. He pushed Tim’s head back and looked at the red, hickey-covered expanse with a tight frown.

Tim resisted the urge to wince. Of course he’d worry that Conner had bitten him.

“You guys are getting this all wrong,” he muttered to Dick sulkily once the coast was clear. The family omega had descended upon him once Bruce had stalked off in bristling, alpha-rage. And unlike the Bat, he reacted with appropriate indignity upon discovering his fifteen-year-old adopted brother had lost his virginity to their _villain’s clone-baby_. “The guy had no idea what he was doing, that’s why it—there was some tearing, but it’s not ‘cause of—”

“It’s not about that. This is just so out of character for you, Timmy,” Dick refused to drop the subject.

“I could have fought him off!”

“He’s _Superman’s clone_. With no kryptonite on you...” Dick’s lips turned down into a frown, his expression troubled. “Look, there isn’t any shame…”

“Why won’t you _listen to me_!” Tim snapped, angrier than he should be. Dick just raised a brow at the younger omega’s outburst. “I just—look—I don’t know what came over me, but I _wanted it_. Like one moment we were tearing into each other and the next he’s got me pressed to the wall and—”

His face flushed red, because what guy wanted to talk about sex with their older brother. It was mortifying.

“And you just spread your legs and let him,” Dick concluded. “Tim, there’s no shame in that either.”

Tim turned his head away and frowned.

Dick ruffled Tim’s hair and said, in a gentle voice, “From what you described, it sounded like you guys were just… very compatible. It happens sometimes if everyone’s adrenaline’s pumping and your pheromones just sync.”

“It just— _happens_ ,” Tim couldn’t keep the horror out of his voice. “We can’t stop it?”

“You can, just. It’s hard to break out of once you get going. Even if it isn’t the… wisest thing.”

The older omega fell into a strange, distant silence. Remembering his personal experience with Bruce, no doubt, and then Tim immediately shoved that thought into the recesses of his mind because _Dick and Bruce_. No.

“I’ll talk to Bruce,” the older omega finally said, because someone had to talk the alpha out of some ridiculous revenge-plot-but-not-a-revenge-plot. “But you’re going to go see Leslie tomorrow, no questions. We don’t want to risk your health.”

“Do you think I’ll see Conner again?” Tim asked tentatively, because he knew most people wouldn't understand. They just saw him as a victim, which Tim could clearly say he was _not_.

“After Luthor took him who knows where? Or course we will,” Dick sighed. “When has Luthor ever kept himself out of our business?”

\--

Ironically enough, the next time Tim met Conner they were nowhere near Luthor’s operations.

They were on a Wayne vacation in Hawaii.

“I am going to sunburn so bad,” he hissed when Dick dragged him to the sandy beaches in nothing but his swim trunks and a towel draped over his shoulders

“C’mon, Timmy,” Dick snapped on a pair of douchey sunglasses onto his face. “I can't be the only one relaxed here. This is a _vacation_. You’re young! Handsome!” Dick threw a calculating glance at the beach. “And got plenty of fish in the sea to choose from too.”

“ _Dick!”_ Tim wailed, mortified in a way only a fifteen-year-old could be. Having his cherry popped didn’t make sex any less _embarrassing_ ; especially not after his father had come back early from a business trip and found Dick’s “thoughtful” present on the Drake residence’s doorstep. That fight hadn't been fun, even if the dildo was eventually put to good use.

Not that Dick needed to know that.

The older omega just cackled, hauled a yelping Tim up over his shoulders, and sprinted down the beach. He tossed him unceremoniously into the cold green waters and watched Tim flail his way to the surface.

“Loser’s gotta strip!” Dick called out, and Tim had just enough brain left to think _DICK NO_ before finding himself pushed back down under. He got dunked twice more before finally catching on, and the next time the former Robin tried jumping onto him, he twisted out of the way and let Dick fall face-forward into the water.

“Still three to your one,” Dick grinned when he resurfaced.

Tim opened his mouth to respond when a strange shiver went up his spine.

“Someone’s watching me,” he said, and Dick’s smile immediately dropped.

The older omega swam closer to him, half Bat-family training and half instinct, and narrowed his eyes at something in the distance. “You mean that guy?”

Tim whipped around and immediately saw the culprit floating above a sand dune far away. _Floating._

Before he knew it, Dick had shouldered his way past Tim and put himself between the young omega and his unknown stalker. Unconcerned that they'd caught on, the stalker just carelessly floated towards them and took off his sunglasses. Tim’s mouth dropped.

“ _Conner?”_ he said, and Dick immediately bristled like an angry Mama bird.

“Heya Tim,” the boy said in a confident drawl he certainly didn’t have the last time they spoke. He was wearing a leather jacket. He had _piercings_. “And hey…”

“Dick Grayson,” Dick said coolly, now completely hiding Tim behind him. Tim frowned at Dick’s stupid broad back and tried shoving the older omega out of the way, to no avail.

“What are you birds doing bunking in Hawaii?” Conner said conversationally. He crossed his legs midair and grinned down at them. “Wait, lemme guess—vacation?”

“No,” Dick said, the same moment Tim said, “Yes.”

“Look dude, we’re just trying to talk,” Conner told the older omega. This seemed to be the last straw, because Dick just crossed his arms and adopted his best immovable, stubborn Nightwing glower. Tim resisted the urge to groan.

“If you think I’m going to let you just talk to him after what you did last time—”

“Seriously?” Conner looked taken aback. “I’d just woken up from a chamber, animal instincts—”

“You _tore him up_!”

At this, the alpha grimaced. “Okay, that was my bad. I’m a lot better now, though.”

“Oh, you’ve been having sex with a lot of omegas then,” Tim snapped at him, all desire to shove Dick out of the way gone. It was stupid. Tim hadn’t bedded anyone else since, but he shouldn't have assumed Conner was going to extend the same courtesy to him.

The boy had the nerve to seem startled at Tim’s sudden mood-shift, and even floated after him when he turned away and stomped up the beach. Dick trailed behind at a tactful distance, but still close enough to launch himself at the alpha if he tried anything funny.

“Tim,” Conner said. Tim felt something tug on his trunks— _definitely_ not a hand—and whipped around to point a finger at the Kryptonian clone.

“Stop acting so friendly,” he said in a low tone. “We don’t know each other. We barely talked. So just _stay away._ ”

“Why are you _mad_ ,” Conner just complained, and Tim snarled and stole the sunglasses off of his head. “Hey!”

“Don’t talk to me,” Tim snapped. He sidled up to Dick and slipped the stolen sunglasses onto his face. They were a bit too big, but were otherwise wearable. “C’mon Dick, let’s go.”

“Sure, Tim,” Dick said and wrapped an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. Tim let himself be led back towards the hotel, and was both gratified and strangely upset that Conner didn’t follow them.

\--

Tim had made his point clear. He wasn’t going to take any shit.

So he wasn’t quite sure how they went from _that_ to _this_.

“You taste as good as I remember,” Conner groaned as he squeezed Tim’s ass. He spread the boy’s cheeks open and lapped at his hole, unabashedly eager even as Tim gasped and seemed caught between squirming away and pressing closer.

“Shit— _Kon_ ,” the omega whined, and shivered when the other boy just laughed and sank his teeth into an ass cheek.

“I _am_ a lot better, ain’t I?” He kissed Tim’s soaked entrance again before hauling himself and turning the omega’s head so he could press their mouths together. Tim felt downright indecent the way he just opened up and licked the taste of his own slick out of the alpha’s mouth. It was worse than his heat, because he still had enough upper brain function to know what he was doing was a bad idea.

Even as he kept doing it.

“Kon,” Tim whimpered again. Conner seemed to like him shortening his name, given the way the alpha purred and licked down his neck. Tim kicked off his pants and let the other boy hook his leg over a shoulder and press his fingers into his wet heat. “I want—Kon, I want it deeper—”

“Let me hear you, Timmy,” Conner said, nipping hard at his chin, his ear, the top of his neck. “Been jerking off to your sounds for _months_. Lemme hear you again.”

“No,” Tim said petulantly, but then moaned when Conner slipped slick-soaked fingers out of him. Moaned again when Conner freed his straining erection from his fly and pressed its tip to his entrance.

“Oh,” Tim inhaled sharply when the alpha pushed inside. He put a hand around Kon’s waist and felt the muscle there flex as they slotted fully together. Breathed shallowly at how strange it felt as his channel accommodated the alpha. Deep, burning hot and _full_.

And then Conner just grabbed Tim by the waist and fucked him hard against the sitting room couch.

“Kon,” Tim yelped. He clung to the alpha’s shoulders and breathed sharply as the he ruthlessly pulled back and shoved into him again. “Kon—ah—slow down, you’re always— _ah_ —”

“Always what, Tim?” Conner kissed him as hard as he fucked, and soon the only sounds were the rustling of their suits, the wet slapping of Kon’s balls against his ass, the sloppy noise of their mouths moving together.

Tim’s thighs were trembling, his entire body taunt, when he felt the hot pressure of Kon’s knot against his entrance. Before the alpha could pop it in, he reached down and squeezed it. Conner yelped.

“ _Tim_ ,” the alpha pled, but Tim hadn’t completely lost his mind.

“Not getting stuck tied to you again,” Tim hissed. “Not when—hn—not when Dick’s coming back in fifteen minutes tops.”

“He’ll chop my balls off,” Conner reluctantly agreed, and went back to rocking into him. Carefully, though, so his knot slowly ground circles against Tim’s entrance rather than squeezed inside it. “That any better, Timmy?”

“Yes,” Tim could feel himself starting to seize up, because the slick pressure inside and outside was just on the edge of too much. “Yes—ah— _ah_!”

“The _best_ noises,” Conner groaned Tim spilled between them with a gasp. The omega whined as Kon thrust into him for another minute or so before pulling out and spilling obscene amounts of come onto the royal red of the couch. _God_ , were they going to get in trouble later.

“Tim,” Kon fell on top of the heaving omega when he finally finished. He kissed Tim’s face. “Tim, Tim…”

“Your cock’s still hanging out of your fly,” Tim told him, because the image of it was absurd. The handsome alpha in all his dark-haired glory, dressed in a million’s dollar-worth custom suit looking debauched as hell. Red cheeks, rumpled shirt. Covered from head to toe except for the aforementioned dick hanging out.

“Tuck me back in?” Kon nuzzled his face.

“Ew, no,” Tim shoved him over lightly, too satiated to punch Conner in the face like he should.

Because Conner wasn’t even supposed to be at this god-awful gala Bruce had forced them all to attend. They didn’t even have a mission—Bruce was intentionally boring himself for the sake of boring himself. Dick went to fetch a glass of champagne and Bruce had started talking business with some investor or whatever and Tim had sulked behind a pillar.

All of which they could’ve done in Gotham, not Hawaii, and after twenty minutes Tim realized Dick had probably snuck off to the bar across the street to get himself drunk on something tropical.

Traitor.

And then he’d literally crashed into Conner in the cheesiest move in the book: getting red wine all over his second-best suit and glowering at the alpha who insisted on accompanying him to the restroom to wash it out.

“You can’t wash this out,” he’d hissed as the alpha corralled him into the hall. “It’ll have to be dry cleaned.”

“Y’know, I sometimes think you’re being dull on purpose,” Conner had told him, and then put a possessive hand right on Tim’s ass. Rather than shove him away—because Tim was still upset from earlier—the omega shivered instead. Shivered even harder when Kon moved his hand down and cupped him between the legs and…

And then he’d shoved Tim into the nearest sitting room and gracelessly slung him over the couch arm. He’d yanked his pants down and pressed his tongue to Tim’s ass—

And now they were here.

“Mum doesn’t want me talking to you,” Conner told him conversationally, still un-tucked and lying millimeters away from a drying come-stain. Tim made a face. “He doesn’t think you’re a good influence.”

“You mean he thinks I’m not a bad enough influence,” Tim snorted. “And Luthor’s not your Mum.”

Conner blinked owlishly. “Of course he is,” he said, almost indignant. “He smells like me. And it’s why he’s kept me with him…” and Conner looked the tiniest bit abashed. “…even if I’m a failure.”

“A failure?” Tim frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Conner’s expression turned serious, in a surprising imitation of the one he wore during their first encounter. Tim’s heartbeat sped up. It was illogical, but he liked seeing this reminder that Kon was still the same.

Conner sat up and tucked himself back into his pants. After a brief pause, he chose to lean over and kiss Tim on the mouth.

It was surprisingly soft for a guy Tim had literally done nothing but fuck twice.

“I’m my own person,” Kon said when they parted. “A blessing and a curse.”

And then he flew out of the window like Peter Pan—leaving Tim to deal with the come-stained couch, that fucking _bastard_.

See if Tim was going to put out the next time. If there was a next time.

Dick was going to be _so disappointed_ in him later.

\--

“Tim,” Dick had said, shamelessly drinking a Pineapple Martini while tapping the little paper umbrella against Tim’s scalp. “Tim, Tim, _Tim_ …”

“Can you _not_ ,” Tim hissed, because a half-drunk Dick was an unpredictable bag of party tricks that ranged from painfully embarrassing (for himself) and painfully embarrassing (for everyone else.)

Unfortunately for Tim, Dick seemed to be caught in the “everyone else” category today.

“Y’know, if you don’t want Bruce to castrate your boy, you should bring him over for dinner,” Dick told him, and Tim smacked the paper umbrella away from his face. “Maybe he’ll even leave one ball intact rather than taking them both.”

“Dick, behave yourself,” the Bat suddenly appeared out of _nowhere_ , looking no worse for wear despite spending several hours rubbing elbows with the sharks. He wrapped an arm around Dick’s trim waist, and the older omega immediately cuddled up against him. Tim froze when the Bat’s gaze fell on him. When Bruce conspicuously _sniffed_.

“Tim,” Bruce growled, and Tim adjusted the still-stained lapels of his suit. “Where is he?”

“Not here!” Tim yelped, and was half-gratified, half-mortified when Dick turned his “embarrassing everyone else” magic to the family alpha and nuzzled Bruce’s neck. The Bat’s attention successfully diverted—as Bruce decided to save face and haul Dick to the nearest cab before the omega began peeling his suit off—Tim took the opportunity to flee.

Like come on, it was Hawaii in the summer and the island wasn’t _that_ big. And he’d rather walk off the cloying scent of his and Conner’s sex than sit in a cab with a grabby-hands Dick flirting with Bruce for ten minutes.

He’s already had enough trauma in his lifetime, especially after his father’s insulting protect-the-omega rant. Thank god Dana had convinced Jack Drake to _not_ send him to an omega-only boarding school across the country. That would make being Robin a thousand times more difficult.

And being Robin was so important to Tim, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if his father took that away from him.

\--

The third time they met, it was under far less scandalous circumstances. Or more scandalous. Tim couldn’t tell.

Because Conner’s drama overtook his for once. Luthor and Clark came to blows once again, and Kon saw his father for the first time. Saw the Man of Steel in action and realized no matter how much he loved his mother, that he and Luthor would never see eye-to-eye on their moral codes.

Unfortunately, his defection from Luthor’s side wasn’t exactly met with open arms from Superman’s.

“He won’t even talk to me,” Conner muttered, sitting dejectedly in his new apartment in Metropolis. Tim—who Bruce had contacted after _Clark_ had contacted him in a panic because _The Clone just moved to my city, Bruce, what do I do?_ —just finished putting together the TV stand and went on to figure out the ridiculous nine-shelf bookcase.

Seriously Luthor, what the hell was a brawns-not-brain guy like Conner going to do with a _nine-shelf bookcase_.

Tim couldn’t help but think how this was the longest time the two of them had spent together without Kon’s cock ending up in his ass. He found the whole experience… refreshing. Especially when Conner insisted he take him to get a haircut.

“Dad says my hair’s not respectable,” Conner muttered when Tim had asked, and he wasn’t touching that topic with a ten-foot pole. He hailed a cab and crammed Conner inside, even as the Superboy complained loudly that he could just fly them to the salon, why did they need to spend money on transportation.

“Because Metropolis isn’t Hawaii,” Tim told him, buckling himself in. Conner, being nigh indestructible, just crossed his arms and ignored his own seat belt. “You’ll attract too much attention just flying about, especially in Clark’s territory.”

“And whatever I do’ll reflect badly on him,” Conner sneered. He glared out the cab window. “I know what he thinks of me, alright?”

“That’s not it,” Tim tried to argue, but the alpha was having none of it.

They didn’t speak again until Conner plopped himself down in the stylist’s chair and stared blankly at the magazines.

“What’s respectable,” he shook the pages at Tim, who sighed and went to go help the alpha. Unfortunately, this meant he had to put up with the beta girl stylist’s knowing smile as he combed Conner’s hair back with his fingers.

“What a _hunk_ ,” she winked at him when Conner had finally settled on a simple short hairdo. He was finally getting rid of that messy undercut and swept-bangs, thank god. “I’d be so jealous if I could take an alpha mauling.”

“We’re not,” Tim said stiffly, but then Conner started growling when the girl’s fingers touched his ears and Tim had to squeeze his hands so they didn’t get arrested for assault. It was like dealing with a toddler. A fifteen-ish-years-old toddler who could fell a building with just his fists.

They got through the haircut and a very brief shopping excursion without incident, though Conner kept yanking Tim close when an alpha walked by. Tim smacked his hand away when he could, and suffered stiffly when he couldn’t. By the time they were done, the other boy had worked himself into such a mood Tim couldn’t force him back into a cab if he tried.

“Everyone stares at you,” Conner growled as he swept Tim into his arms and shot up into the air. “I don’t _like_ it.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “They’re not staring at me, Kon, they’re staring at you.”

“They’re not.”

“Uh, yes they are. You’re a _hunk_ , Kon. I’m just… I’m just _me_. Nothing special.”

“ _What,”_ Conner said, almost offended, and then dropped Tim unceremoniously through the window of his new apartment. Tim yelped but rolled into his landing. Kon floated inside after him and flopped onto the couch.

The _nerve_.

Tim, having tiredly chaperoned this hotheaded half-alien around all afternoon and been rewarded with _this_ , strolled over and sat on Kon’s chest in retaliation.

“It’ll get better,” he eventually informed the boy, who continued to pout. Apparently Tim was light as a feather, because Kon showed no difficulty breathing under Tim’s full weight. “With Clark, I mean. He and Luthor have had this enemy-thing going on for years. He’s not mad at _you_ , he’s mad at Luthor for taking his DNA and crafting a love baby. He’ll get over himself once he gets to know you.”

Conner scoffed and wrapped strong arms around Tim’s waist. “Rather get to know _you_.” He nuzzled his hip in an obvious request, and Tim actually found himself charmed rather than annoyed.

“Fucking me isn’t actually a way of getting to know me,” he informed him.

“Of course it is,” Conner tugged him down so Tim was lying down on top of him, chest to chest. “Getting to know what makes you feel good.”

“You are _so corny_ ,” Tim burst out laughing. He let Conner tug his pants off anyway, despite all rationale telling him that this wasn’t a good idea. Not at all. But he wanted to, and Kon clearly enjoyed it, and it was easier to give in than to fight… whatever this was.

Later, as they lay naked and actually _cuddling_ on the couch—the world was going to end—Tim finally asked a question he'd been thinking of all day, “I can’t believe Luthor’s paying for your apartment. Aren’t you guys fighting?”

Conner grunted. “Mum’s convinced I’ll go back to him eventually. Trying to sweeten the deal with all _this_.” He waved around the room. “And Dad’s not raising a finger to help at all, so I was like. Why not.”

“Be careful,” Tim warned, running his fingers through Kon’s newly cropped hair.

He was surprised when Conner just snorted. “He’s my _mum_ , Tim. I’ll be fine.”

Tim wondered where Kon got this self-confidence from. Even after Luthor had made his moral position clear; even after Kon had chosen to follow Clark, the parent who tried his damn hardest to pretend the clone didn’t exist.

Even after all that, Kon still loved Luthor. It was baffling.

\--

(“I didn’t ask to be created!” Kon screamed after the umpteenth time Superman had ignored him. The Teen Titans had been called to assist in yet another mission to thwart Luthor’s plots, and Tim hadn’t been surprised to see the Man of Steel zooming about in the skies.

He _was_ surprised to see Conner though, who’d appeared mid-battle and tried helping Clark out. The other alpha had snarled at him angrily and Kon’s temper finally seemed to get the better of him.

“I’m here! I exist!” Conner flew right up into Clark’s space, practically bristling with aggression. “I’m not going to just _go away_ , and if you can’t deal with that than that’s your problem! Sometimes I think Mum was _completely right_ about you.”

And then he was flying off, leaving the Teen Titans and Clark gaping after him in his wake.

“Clark,” Tim said when the Kryptonian landed onto their shared rooftop once the mission was over.

Clark held up a hand. “Batman’s already scolded me, Robin.”

“Then do something about it,” Tim snapped. He definitely wouldn’t have talked so frankly if Conner’s anger hadn’t sparked something inside of him. “Conner’s a good guy. Angry, yeah, and he sometimes doesn’t know how the world works. But at the heart of it, he’s got your morals and not Luthor’s. He’s one of _us_.”

Clark gave him a startled look. “Tim…”

But Tim, having just realized he was scolding _Superman_ , just shot a line out across the street and swung himself away. Superman could have chased after him easily, but the man had too many problems to mull over.

Tim did too, for different reasons. Kon needed a pack before Luthor dragged him back under his wing again, and Tim lost him for good.

 _I’m here! I exist_ , the boy had screamed, and Tim felt a sharp pang of guilt. Kon couldn’t join into a unrelated pack without an omega’s approval; until Clark got his head out of his ass, Kon’s acceptance in the superhero community rested entirely on Tim’s shoulders. Tim, who’d dropped the ball.

 _Conner’s a good guy_ , he’d just scolded Clark. Words he should’ve used to scold himself.)

\--

And now, a couple years after the day Tim had clasped Kon’s hand and finally invited him to join the other titans— _this_ happened.

\--

The most baffling thing was, Lex Luthor actually did love Kon.

Why else would he let the Teen fucking Titans waltz into his secret, totally-not-Lexcorp laboratory where he’d been hiding Kon away for two weeks. Not for the Titan’s lack of trying to find him—Tim had been on the cusp of tossing away dignity and clawing at Luthor’s door, because hadn’t he already lost enough?

His parents, his home. Not his alpha, too.

And then Lex Luthor had finally sent them an invite to see Kon,. It seemed a bit insensitive, as the last time they'd seen him the boy had been _dead_.

“Not dead,” Luthor said in a far too even voice, given the circumstances. “But very close to it. I had my men put him in a regenerative chamber…”

“So he’s _alive_?” Cassie said, immediately looking around like Kon was going to just pop out of nowhere. Despite Superboy’s long list of powers, teleportation was sadly not one of them.

Luthor’s expression cooled. “He is… alive, yes, but the regeneration process had more side effects than I’d envisioned.”

Tim had hung around the Batman enough to know that _side effects_ was a gentle way to say _something went really, really wrong_. “What kind of side effects?”

Luthor pursed his lips. “It’s probably best to show you.”

\--

Kon-El looked as if he was simply sleeping in the stasis chamber.

Tim felt his breath catch, because this was nothing like the broken, bleeding body of his alpha after Superboy-Prime had pulverized him. This was Kon as he remembered him. His body whole, his skin unblemished.

He touched the glass with a hand.

And suddenly Kon’s eyes flicked open, and he snapped forward with a loud, animalistic snarl.

“Conner, that is enough,” Luthor stepped forward and shoved Tim out of the way. The younger omega would’ve taken more offense if he hadn’t been staring at Kon in horror, because there was no recognition in those wild blue eyes. Kon was like a wild animal scrabbling against the glass like he could claw his former teammate’s faces off.

Luthor tapped the glass. The raging boy inside focused on his mother’s face and—and notably deflated. Stopped snarling and just stood docilely as Luthor stroked the glass between them. “It’s okay, Conner.”

Kon let out a curious growl, which was when Tim knew definitively that things had indeed gone very, very wrong.

\--

“Absolutely not,” Bruce Wayne’s voice was flat over the line. Tim paced in front of the computer, hands held tight by his sides.

“Bruce, there’s no other choice.”

“Luthor could be simply seeking to mine us for data. Who knows what kind of plans he has in store.”

“Kon’s his _son_ , Bruce!” Tim shouted at the communicator. Thank god Bruce couldn’t see his face, because distraught and panicked were the exact opposite emotions Robin should have. “And I looked at the medical reports and it’s bad. Even with the Kryptonian blood. We have to get to that planet—the one with the Healing Springs—”

“Which I have no problems with,” Bruce said testily. “But I will not allow Luthor to board the spacecraft alongside you. There is too much room for error there. Too much for the JLA to lose.”

“Kon will only listen to him,” Tim said. “Trust me, I don’t want to spend a month in space with Lex Luthor either.”

Bruce was silent. Tim wanted to reach into the computer and strangle his family alpha, because couldn’t he see how much this meant to Tim? How much Tim would sacrifice for his alpha, a sentiment he _knew_ Bruce recognized because what else has Dick been doing for the last decade.

“If Kon has indeed reverted back to a savage state,” Bruce finally said. “Then he should listen to you, too.”

“When he saw me though…”

“But he didn’t scent you, did he?” Bruce sounded like he’d rather be talking about anything else than this. Well tough. Bruce had had years to get over his bristling overprotective Daddy Bat instincts, and Tim wasn’t going to cower like he was fifteen again.

“He didn’t,” Tim confirmed, but his own mind was racing. Kon was docile with Luthor because he recognized the omega as his mother. Following that same logic, he should respond positively to Tim as well.

Even without a bite.

He put a hand over his neck and felt regret well up bitter on his tongue. How many times had he stopped Kon from sinking his alpha teeth into his skin? And for what? A fear of losing control, a fear of indignity. All petty excuses, all things considered.

“I’ll ask Luthor about it,” Tim finally said. “But he won’t be happy.”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” Bruce responded flatly, and disconnected.

\--

Luthor was predictably unhappy.

“If you think I’m going to leave my son in the hands of some _whelp_ —”

“If _you_ think _we’re_ going to let a technological megalomaniac onto sensitive JLA property—” Tim argued back, and they could have gone on and on like that if Kon hadn’t suddenly rammed through his double-barricaded bedroom door and tackled Cassie onto the ground.

“Conner!” Luthor started forward when Kon wrestled with the surprised but equally angry alpha girl, but Tim was closer.

“Kon!” he threw himself on top the boy and felt Kon’s entire body seize below him. He half expected the boy to buck him off and smash his face into the nearest wall, but then suddenly found himself flipped onto his back.

The feral alpha dipped his face into the crook of his neck and snuffled, and god. Even without a bite, the boy recognized him. Tim tentatively ran his hands down the boy’s thick arms while Kon crooned, and couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes.

“Kon,” he whispered, dropping his hands down to cradle his alpha’s face. Kon let out a low growl and nipped lightly at his chin, which for a rough-and-tumble guy like Kon was more of a kiss than anything. Tim wound both arms around Kon’s neck and glanced past his tears to see the rest of the Titans looking down at him.

“Woo-hoo,” Cassie coughed, rubbing at a Superboy-sized bruise on her arm. “Looks like Tim’s a Kon-whisperer too.”

“Luthor,” Tim said, getting to the heart of the matter. He cradled the back of Kon’s head to his chest and looked the other omega in the eye.

The man stood by the edge of the hallway, mouth pursed in obvious disapproval. But Tim—Tim knew better than to bow down under that glare. And Bruce was right in this. Luthor had no other choice.

Not if he wanted Conner back to normal.

“You bring my boy back, Drake,” he said through gritted teeth. “Or I’ll make you regret the day you were born.”

“Noted,” Tim drawled, and stroked Kon’s dark hair with a hand that he barely, just barely, kept from trembling.

\--

He didn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t bring Kon back either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Split in two (the world is ending!) because the tone of this story is easily two parted. I usually don't split anything because then it'd be like ten 2k chapters and I don't like chapters that are too short OTL


	2. and the start of another beginning

The journey to the correct planet would take a week to arrive and another week to return. The other Titans clamored to go along with them, but Tim put his foot down at once.

“No,” he pointed at his teammates’ disappointed faces. “We can’t all leave the Watchtower unguarded. The JLA will definitely need the Titans these next few weeks, and it’ll be bad enough I’m gone.”

Cassie crossed her arms and looked uncomfortable. “I mean yeah, Tim, I get your point, but what if…”

Tim cast her a questioning look.

Cassie exchanged uneasy glances with the other Titans and turned back to Tim. “What if this, uh, this caveman Kon… forces you?”

Tim flushed at her implication. “That won’t happen.”

“Dude, it could totally happen,” Beast Boy said flatly. “And you’re a spitfire, Tim, no question, but Kon’s a _Kryptonian Alpha_. If he gets the upper hand…”

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” Tim said.

“…he could _bite_ you, Tim,” Cassie overrode him loudly. “What if that happens!”

Tim held his ground. “Then I’ll deal with it. Guys, Kon and I… you know we’ve been kind of together for years. Don’t worry about me.”

“But…”

“Oh, let him go,” Blue Beetle said, waving a hand. He activated his wings and flew into the air. “It’s his choice to bunk with el Superboy loco, and it’s not like the rest of us could do much to help anyway.”

“I could pound his face in,” Cassie offered, but from her tone Tim knew she’s already been defeated. Beast Boy swished his tail with a frown. Tim sighed.

Kon, who had been relatively docile in his chamber, bared his teeth at his former teammates. Cassie snarled back. Tim resisted the urge to smack them both upside the head. He only hoped Dick—and Wally, who’d also agreed to babysit the Titans—weren’t too hard on his rowdy teammates while the two of them were gone.

He winced. Yeah, and pigs will _fly_.

\--

Tim kept Kon in the glass container all throughout the systems check, take off, and then another systems check once they were out of the Watchtower’s orbit. The alpha snarled and roared and fought against his confines, but there was no way Tim was letting him out until their autopilot was up and running. Not with Kon’s temper and strength and his habit of pushing Tim against the nearest surface and spreading his legs apart.

“Four days of communication,” Batman said over the comms. “Then you’ll be out of the Watchtower’s range for the next three. Be careful, Robin. And send word once you’re on your way back and in range again.”

“Gotcha B,” Tim said and signed off. Instead of approaching Kon immediately, he reviewed some of the readings from his and Bruce's last case just because he could.

When the boy’s growling began to pick up volume, Tim swiveled around in his chair.

“You keep growling like that, I’m not letting you out,” he informed his feral alpha like the boy could understand him. Tim was positive he _could_.

Kon immediately quieted, which proved his point. Tim walked right up to the glass and marveled at the alpha breathing raggedly inside. God. _God_ , it was surreal seeing Kon alive and whole in body if not in mind. His hands trembled, because this desperation ran both ways. He wanted Kon in his arms again.

Taking a deep breath, Tim clicked open the glass pod and braced himself.

Kon barreled into him and pinned him to the floor before he could blink. He snuffled against Tim’s face, his neck, and then dragged his teeth up his jugular and bit his earlobe like it was his goddamn right. Tim sniffed and buried his face into Kon’s shoulder. Clung to that familiar, wild alpha scent he thought he’d never get to enjoy again.

“Kon,” he sobbed, pressing wet eyes to the boy’s neck. The alpha immediately tucked him under his chest like he could shield Tim from whatever was hurting him. Except the pain was internal, and Kon seemed baffled that his efforts weren’t stopping the omega’s tears. “Kon, god, you _left_. You goddamn _bastard_ , you left me, you _left_.”

Kon crooned in concern. He ran large, rough hands down Tim’s chest like he was trying to soothe him, and Tim spread his legs once the boy’s hands reached his hips. He wanted Kon inside him—he wanted to feel his alpha close, the thud of his heartbeat through his cock, knowing with every breath that he was _alive_ and _here_.

“Yes,” he mewled when Kon moved down his body and tugged down the waistline of his pants. Nuzzled his growing erection and licked up Tim’s clothed dick. “Yes, Kon, _please_ —”

He gasped in pleasure when the alpha gave him what he wanted by pulling down Tim’s briefs and taking the tip of his cock into his mouth. Suckling its head in an uncharacteristically gentle way and stroking Tim’s trembling thighs. It was sloppy and uncoordinated and definitely not the best blowjob in the world, but Tim didn’t care. He gently thrust into Kon’s warm mouth and moaned when Kon tongued his slit. Trembled when the alpha took him completely inside, swallowing him down to the root and—

“Kon,” he pushed the boy’s head back, chest heaving. The other boy let his cock go with a reluctant pop, but was immediately distracted when Tim turned over onto his hands and knees and shoved his pants down past his bare ass. Kon was on him immediately, thick chest pressed to Tim’s back and mouth biting hard into his shoulder.

“Want you inside,” Tim whined, because Kon could barely resist him presenting like this even when he was in his right mind. A feral Kon had no chance. “C’mon big guy, come _on_ —”

The alpha growled and lifted Tim into his lap. Tim hissed when he felt the alpha’s blunt cockhead pressing past his rim, and then Kon was shoving right into him. It _hurt_ , the stretch too sudden, but Tim didn’t care. The way Kon just clamped his teeth into his shoulder and began to roughly fuck into him, powerful hips slamming them together and the omega scrabbling against the ship floor, was perfect. The way he clutched Tim’s belly and pressed their torsos close as he moved, so Tim could feel the assurance of Kon’s heartbeat against his back, was _perfect_.

“Kon,” he whispered, forehead pressed to the metal floor. He was burning, floating, being penetrated deep enough that his insides were being hollowed out. And then Kon shoved his swelling knot into him, its girth settling like a rock within his entrance, and this was.

This was.

He cried softly, even after Kon shifted them onto their sides and nuzzled his neck. 

“Tim,” Kon said, the first word Tim had heard him say since Luthor had showed him the charts mapping out the damage to Kon’s human DNA. Kon licked his cheek and ran his hands up to Tim’s chest. “Tim?”

The omega grabbed his hand and pressed it to his left breast. Kon’s hand was so warm against his heart. Reassuring. More tears ran down his face.

“Come back, Kon,” Tim sobbed, voice muffled with tears. Kon bit his ear and kissed his chin. He pressed his face into Tim’s neck and continued to grind his cock inside of him, steady and strong and in time with their heartbeats. “Kon, _please_.”

“Tim,” Kon breathed again, and turned the boy around so they were face-to-face. Kissed his eyes and stroked his face. “Tim, _Tim_.”

Tim hiccupped and came weakly, almost as an afterthought. Kon spread his come curiously between their bellies before drawing his attention back to his crying mate. Tim wrapped his arms around Kon’s thick neck and buried his face into his chest. Breathed the boy in. Felt the boy around him, inside him, _here_ , and desperately _believed_.

\--

 

Kon’s mate was gorgeous.

He could barely believe this beautiful omega could have chosen him, but one whiff of the boy’s scent and he’d known the boy was _his_. He fit into his arms like he was made to be there, and he made the sweetest noises when Kon showered him with affection during and after mating.

But sometimes, for a reason Kon couldn’t figure out, his mate became upset.

It was impossible to console him like this, not even by offering to mount him in a gentler way. Kon loved feeling the omega squeezing tightly around his cock, but he was aware of the discomfort this sometimes caused. He could be gentle. He could be good. He stroked the smooth skin of his mate’s belly, admiring the tight muscle there. Muscle that opened up around him when Kon licked between his legs, but when he pressed his hard cock to his mate’s hip the boy moved away.

“No, Kon,” his mate sniffed. Kon growled. His mate smacked his nose, and Kon frowned indignantly. “ _Sleep_.”

“Tim,” Kon insisted, patting the omega’s hip. Tim still refused him. Kon settled down unhappily. He wanted to love his mate. All the time. Every day. But sometimes when his Tim was upset, it was impossible.

“Tim?” Kon said again, but the boy was breathing evenly with sleep. Frustration gave way to endearment. Cute. Kon stroked the boy’s dark hair and pressed his mouth to his jaw line. Licked and kissed until Tim wrinkled his nose and batted Kon’s face away.

So Kon rolled out of their nest and walked around their floating home.

When Kon had first awoken, he’d been trapped inside a large white space with strangers poking and prodding him. He would’ve attacked if his mother hadn’t come to soothe his brow, which was when he knew he was safe.

And then his mother had passed him onto his Tim, who was his mate, and then his Tim had put him on a floating house and now they were here, alone. Floating.

Alone until the dark creature on the screen appeared, like he did the moment Kon walked into Tim’s favorite room.

“Conner,” the dark creature said. Kon ignored him.

Kon dug through some strange rope and plastic bags and finally found the red and yellow box with the salty bits his Tim liked. He then tried putting everything back into the box he'd gotten them from, because Tim didn’t like it when he made a mess. He’d probably frown and tell Kon to stay out of the control room again, and if Kon protested too much he’d get locked up in the glass case.

He hated the glass case.

“Conner,” the dark creature kept speaking. “Tim was supposed to check in half an hour ago.”

Kon shoved the last of the strange ropes into the hole and finally looked at the dark creature that lived in the giant screen. He said, “He’s sleeping.”

“Why is he sleeping?” the dark creature frowned in a way Kon suspected he was supposed to be scared of. Except the creature lived in the screen and couldn’t reach out and actually hurt Kon, so Kon remained unimpressed. “Is he feeling alright?”

Kon frowned at him.

The dark creature sighed. “I see your vocabulary’s getting better. The Kryptonian blood’s starting to reverse the cellular breakdown to your human DNA, though at what consequence we can’t tell. The springs are still the best chance to heal any damage caused by the regeneration chamber.”

“Tim’s sleeping,” Kon repeated, and ignored the dark creature’s glare when he leaned forward and pressed the button that would send the creature back into its abyss.

Then he took the red and yellow box and brought it back to the nest.

Tim was lying in the same exact position he was in when Kon left. Kon put the box on the table beside the bed and crawled under the covers. It _hurt_ to dig deep into his tired brain and identify these objects. Easier to not think too hard about it, even if it caused Tim to give him those sad, disappointed looks.

“Where’dya go,” Tim snuffled when Kon wriggled into his arms. He didn’t move away when Kon tangled their legs together and pressed his erection between his thighs, but he made no move to do anything about it either. That was okay. Kon liked how warm it was. How the boy cuddled closer to him and squeezed around him.

Kon wanted to ignore his mate’s words, except the omega said: “Kon, don’t ignore me.”

Wondering if his Tim understood the great sacrifices he made to appease him, Kon forced himself through the pain of his stupid, scrambled brain and managed: “Batman called.”

Tim froze. Kon tried soothing his back with a large hand, but Tim just sat up with an alarmed look on his face. “Shit, _shit,_ I totally forgot. Was he angry? I need to call him back.”

“Sleep,” Kon insisted, but Tim ignored him as usual. He tugged on some boxers and a large black shirt with an ‘S’ on it—Kon’s symbol, the not-stupid part of his brain tried to tell him—and stumbled out of their room.

Kon sighed and lay back down on the covers. Pressed his face into Tim’s pillow and breathed in that familiar omega scent until he started growling low in his throat. His cock throbbed painfully, like it’d been doing more and more often since reuniting with his mate. He whined—couldn’t Tim see how much he needed to sink inside him? How much Kon ached to feel him falling apart in his arms, to pleasure him, to love him?

He wrapped a hand around his shaft and thrust into his fist, imagining it was his Tim clenching around him. Tight and wet and so hot Kon always felt like he was melting, making the absolute best noises as they fucked.

“Kon,” Tim would moan ever so sweetly. Bat his deep blue eyes at him and squeeze him so tight Kon would groan. “Kon, I want _more_.”

Kon let out a grunt as he came all over his hands. Stroked his knot as he spilled onto his own stomach, his chest, and heaved a deep sigh at the pleasure of it. Not enough to satiate him, though, given the still half-hard state of his cock. Nothing felt like enough.

Kon rolled himself in the blankets and hoped the smell of him and his seed could convince Tim to spread his legs once he returned. Convince him that Kon could love him thoroughly, completely, so much so he never had to look so upset again.

\--

By the third day they were on the floating house, Kon’s constant arousal had turned painful. Incredibly painful, to the point where he roared and upended the nest and clawed at the door hard enough to leave finger-sized dents in the metal.

Tim locked him up in the case.

“Tim,” Kon whined pathetically, face pressed to the glass as his mate cruelly, cruelly ignored him in favor of playing with his weird little gadgets. “Tim, Tim, _Tim_ —”

“Shush,” Tim told him, unrepentant, and refused to turn around even when Kon snapped and threw himself bodily against the glass. As this was specially-designed Lexcorp-patented glass intended to hold the Man of Steel himself, he made no headway. Just enough loud, thunking noises that only managed to annoy the omega after a grand total of thirty minutes.

“Kon, you’re in _rut_ ,” Tim shook a paper at him, like Kon gave a damn what a piece of paper covered in numbers said. “A bad rut, I’ve never seen one like this, and I think your body’s trying to restart itself so it can repair the—the brain damage. It’s why your vocabulary improved while you were around me. But there’s also a chance you can _die_ if the rut gets bad enough, so please let me synthesize a suppressant that will alleviate the effects so _you won’t die_.”

“Tim,” Kon just said, because even not-stupid him would have problems following all of that. He let out a low whine when he saw how upset Tim was, breathing shakily in front of his case like he was watching Kon be tortured.

Clearly, he wasn’t being tortured by anyone but the infuriating omega keeping him here.

“Just hold on a bit longer,” Tim whispered, and pressed himself right up to the glass. It felt wrong to see his mate so close and not be able to smell him, and that reminded Kon of how much he ached all over and he _needed_ Tim against him, around him, _right now_.

“Hurts,” he managed, and tried to look strong even when Tim’s expression crumpled just a bit around the corners.

\--

By the fourth day, Tim was frantically arguing with the dark creature on the screen.

“You can do it,” the creature said, but looked more worn out than usual. “Of all of us, you’re the most equipped to figure out a solution…”

“What’s wrong,” Tim immediately said, picking up on the creature’s distraction. He frowned when the creature shook his head. “Bruce, has something happened?”

“Not… not anything we can’t handle,” the dark creature responded. “Focus on your mission. Call again when you’re within signal. Tim, it’ll be alright.”

Tim rubbed his face with a hand and looked over to where Kon lay on the cot. When Kon had become too weak to pound against the glass, Tim had removed him in alarm. He'd placed him on a rollout cot from the emergency med-bay, which had its ups and downs. On the up side, Kon was out of that blasted glass case and could soak in Tim’s soothing omega scent as much as he wanted.

On the down side, Kon was too weak to actually do anything about it. 

“No,” he frowned when Tim tried to get him to swallow something nasty. This was the third nasty thing he’d swallowed, and each successive one had made him feel worse. “ _No_ , I don’t want to.”

“Kon, please,” Tim begged. He swept Kon’s hair away from his sweaty forehead and crawled halfway onto the cot himself. Kon crooned and put a weak arm around the omega’s waist. Breathed in his sweet but distressed omega scent until he started dozing off, and then Tim was shaking him awake again. “Kon!”

“Kiss me?” Kon grinned weakly, and Tim’s face did a funny twist. Things must really be bad since Tim didn’t protest—just uncapped the vial with a determined set to his jaw and poured it into his mouth. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Kon’s. It was so goddamn bitter, Kon would’ve dry-heaved if Tim wasn’t apologetically tangling their tongues together. If the omega wasn’t stroking the side of his face with a nimble hand, his upper body pressed reassuringly over Kon’s heart. Kon swallowed without realizing it, and enjoyed Tim’s mouth pressing softly into his own for as long as he could.

But then he started coughing, and Tim had to move back or get smacked in the face.

“Stay with me, Kon,” Tim whispered, pulling the weakened alpha into his arms. “Stay with me.”

\--

Kon wasn’t sure what day it was when Tim put a cool compress on his forehead and whispered in a heartbroken tone: “We won’t make it in time.”

\--

The next time he startled awake, it was because the entire ship was shaking around them.

“Tim?” Kon rasped, and turned to see the boy’s fingers flying determinedly across the keyboard controls. He hit ‘enter’ and the ship roared around them a second time.

Kon tried to take in his surroundings through bleary eyes: the omega had strapped him into the co-pilot’s seat and padded the sides so Kon stayed upright. The leg-space between them was filled with everything from a large hydration jug to those weird little freeze-dried McDonald’s fries Tim liked so much. Tim pressed another few buttons, and the ship shook once, twice, and then suddenly stopped.

“What was that,” Kon managed. Tim tried to shush him, but he frowned and shook the omega’s hand away. “Tim, what the hell did you do?”

“Disconnected the dorm and med bay chambers,” Tim said, like he wasn’t admitting he’d _torn the ship in half_. “They’re weighing us down.”

“They’re _what_?” Kon looked at the jug to the boxes of food to Tim’s determined expression in horror. “Don’t tell me—”

“Press your head to the seat if you don’t want whiplash,” Tim overrode him, and yanked a lever.

The world _blurred_.

\--

Kon couldn't breathe. He gasped and tried to flail upwards out of the spring, but then familiar hands were gently pushing him down again.

“Deep breaths, Kon,” Tim’s voice floated down from above. Kon whined lowly from the back of his throat, but acquiesced when the omega stroked his face. “One more time.”

Kon winced and squeezed his eyes shut, and he felt himself plunged back into the water once more.

\--

When Kon blinked awake, he was lying on a bed. A real bed this time—actual white sheets that ran soft against his skin, and a fluffy pillow beneath his head. He realized someone was gripping his hand tight enough to hurt, and blinked up at a ragged-looking Tim in bewilderment.

“Heya Tim,” he whispered, voice hoarse—and Tim burst into tears.

“Woah,” he said, alarmed, when the omega’s next move was to start _smacking his chest_. “Woah, Tim, stop that—”

“Ridiculous, bull-headed, reckless _bastard_!” Tim just screamed at him, and smacked him again. Kon winced but didn’t fight back, because Tim’s blows were nothing to a Kryptonian’s constitution. Even a half-Kryptonian. “You _died_ , you ass, and you almost died again, and I hate you! I _hate_ you!”

And then, as if just to be contrary, the omega threw himself on top of Kon. 

Tim hated looking weak. He was the fierce leader of the Teen Titans, after all, and the esteemed Batman’s protégé; he was the smartest boy Kon knew, giving Mum a run for his money; and even if he fell apart sometimes during sex, Tim made it clear that that was during _sex_.

On the field, he expected nothing less than absolute obedience from Superboy.

On the field, he’d yelled when Superboy had gone charging up against that alternate Clark—and gotten beaten so bad he almost died. Gotten beaten so bad he _did_ die, because wasn’t that what Tim had just screamed at him?

Kon swept a thumb under Tim’s eye. Felt his heart flutter when Tim leaned into his touch and sighed. “You gotta start at the beginning, Tim. My mind feels like mush.”

He stroked a large hand down the omega’s back and thrilled in the way that lithe body arched against his. God, Tim was a wet dream. He ran his alpha-teeth along the shell of the boy's ear and gently tugged at his earlobe.

“You keep doing that, there won’t be much talking,” Tim huffed, and Kon impatiently snuck his hands under the boy’s shirt. “You’re on your _sickbed_ , Conner. For god’s sake.”

“I feel fine,” Kon murmured. He stroked the omega’s side in apology. “I feel _fine_ , Tim, and something tells me that’s your doing. Can’t a guy reward his hero?”

“Who’s rewarding who,” Tim said, but didn’t protest when Kon gently hauled him into his lap. He didn’t protest when Kon arched up and kissed Tim softly, confidently, and he certainly didn’t protest when Kon slipped a hand past his waistband.

“I’m here,” he whispered into Tim’s mouth, and knew he’d said the right thing when the omega just whined at him. “I’m here, Tim. I’m back.”

“Asshole,” Tim hissed, but let Kon slip his pants down over the swell of his ass. Let Kon gently finger him open and then push himself inside the boy’s shuddering body, smooth and easy after years of moving together like this. Tim felt so real and alive and beautiful around him. Such a soothing comfort the more he rocked down into Kon’s lap, whispering endearments and curses and cradling Kon’s face like he couldn’t believe the boy was here. That he was fine.

“Tim,” Kon whispered, clenching Tim’s waist and rolling his hips upwards. “Tim, _Tim_.”

“Love you,” Tim whispered into his mouth. Kissed the corners of his lips and then his strong jaw. “I _love you_ , Kon.” The boy was crying again, but this time in relief. He sniffed and gasped and hung onto Kon’s shoulders tight, which was Kon knew for sure he’d been forgiven. They gasped in tandem when Kon pressed all the way in and let his knot swell within the omega’s channel.

Once fully tied, he nudged Tim over and tucked him under his body. Threw the sheets over them and cuddled his now secure omega, because even with a sound mind they were still on some alien planet Kon barely recognized.

Tim huffed, “We’re perfectly safe here, Kon.”

“Says who.”

“Says me,” Tim let out a soft noise when Kon spilled inside him, his hips grinding subtle circles within him. The omega whined when Kon remembered his neglected cock and stroked it with a hand. “The—ah—the sisters have agreed to let us—hm—to let us renovate one of their ships so we can—shit, right _there_ —”

There was no more talking for a good while, which suited Kon just fine. Ironic, given that he was the first to speak once they regained their senses.

“You _destroyed the ship_ ,” Kon said, once Tim had came between their stomachs and he was patting the omega’s side again. “Mum is going to _kill you_ for losing his chamber.”

“Luthor can go suck a dick,” Tim yawned, and giggled when Kon pinched his waist in retaliation. It was a good giggle. Enough that Kon forgave him for casting disparaging remarks on his mother, though Tim didn’t need to know that. He pressed a greedy mouth to Tim’s chin and inwardly crowed when the omega gave him a kiss.

God, this boy was going to be the _death_ of him.

\--

The new ship was much smaller than their first one, but Tim had been on a tight deadline. He could have probably fixed it up in one day rather than two, but he'd been so relieved Kon was _Kon_ again that he'd indulged the boy's whims.

“Sweet,” Kon rifled through the amenities after take-off, and then lifted a yelping Tim into their new cabin to christen the bed. He only curbed the flirting once Tim threatened to withhold breakfast, but was otherwise smug as a cat who caught the canary—or Robin, in this case—while watching Tim working in the cockpit.

“So Tim,” the boy drawled after spending a long time staring at Tim’s neck. The omega ignored him. “Feral me was real sure you were mine, y’know.”

“Hm,” Tim said.

“Ain’t that funny?”

“Hm?” Tim gave him a frown.

Kon leaned over and tapped Tim’s neck—his hickey-covered, battle-scarred but otherwise bite-less neck. “Thought alphas needed to bite to recognize a mating bond.”

Tim flushed and batted Kon’s hand away. He’d been pushing that thought aside for days, because why wouldn't Kon go into rut just from inhaling Tim’s scent? That was their thing since the very beginning. It wasn't the most dignified start of their relationship, but it had worked out in the end.

“Yeah, well,” Tim finally said, turning back to the controls. He didn’t actually need to mess with anything, but he was too embarrassed to look at Kon’s face. “Not every alpha and omega needs a bite to tell everyone they’re theirs.”

“Like who?” Kon frowned.

Tim waved a hand. “Like Dick and Bruce, for example. Dick’s unbitten.”

“Nightwing’s _what_?” Kon gave him an incredulous stare. “He’s your family omega!”

“Still unbitten.”

“Okay, that just proves my point,” Kon floated out of his seat and sidled up to Tim. Put his chin on Tim’s head and looped big arms around his shoulders. “’Cause the only example you gave is like, one of the most long-term alpha-omega relationships I know.”

“If you want to ask me something, ask,” Tim finally stopped pretending he was working and turned to the alpha. The half-Kryptonian purred and nuzzled into his hair.

“Timothy Drake—”

“Timothy Drake _Wayne_.”

“Seriously, Tim? Fine. Timothy Drake Wayne,” Kon looked down at him, “Can I bite you?”

“No,” Tim said, and turned back to the controls.

Kon whined incredulously. Tim ignored him, even when Kon slid down to the ground and sulked around the cockpit. When he returned to his spot in the co-pilot’s seat, Tim activated the autopilot that’d take them within the Watchtower’s range and turned to his alpha.

He went and sat in Kon’s lap, though the alpha just crossed his arms and pouted at him. Tim leaned his head against Kon’s broad shoulder anyway. “Not now, Kon. But if you behave yourself on the way back…”

He grinned at Kon’s suddenly interested look, “…maybe I’ll let you when we get home.”

“You _tease_ ,” Kon exclaimed, but pulled a laughing Tim into his arms. He nuzzled Tim’s aforementioned neck in protest, and just smirked when Tim pushed his head away. “You want me to be good? I’ll be good. I’ll be so good you’ll beg me for it.”

“Bring it on, big guy,” Tim drawled, but gave his alpha an eager kiss that made his feelings as clear as day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_extra_

 

Tim was so nervous he was going to drown in a pool of his own sweat.

He hated being nervous. It meant even his best analysis, data charts and contingency plans hadn’t produced any acceptable conclusions; and he had to rely on the unpredictable to get through the night. He hated going into a situation blind. Worst scenario for a bat boy in any form, though Dick seemed far more able to go with the flow than Tim was.

Even Jason, that psychotic asshole, adapted better than Tim did. Like when an enraged Damian Wayne fell on top of his shiny hooded head and unleashed the anger of a thousand assassins.

Tim’s reaction to the exact same thing had left him sore on a hospital bed, and so he was more than affronted when Jason just picked the brat up by the neck and _tossed him off the roof_.

Which then brought _Dick_ onto Jason’s head, and Tim had never seen the alpha look so honestly terrified.

“He’s fine!” Jason had hissed, vaulting off the roof and picking up the relatively unscathed boy. Damian roared and bit his hand, but that was nothing to being whacked with the taser-end of Nightwing’s escrima stick. “Knock it off—Dick! Ow!”

“You can probably stop shocking him now,” Tim had told him. Dick finally relented in favor of yanking the demon baby to his side and giving his fellow Robins the Alfred Glare.

“I don’t care how much you take your anger out on us, Jay, but you leave Damian alone,” he snapped in a terse voice, despite the fact that Damian had attacked Jason first. The brat just wrapped his arms around Dick’s waist and glowered at the affronted alpha. “And for god’s sake, can you please just call Bruce like a normal person and not commit crimes to get his attention.”

“I’m not trying to get Bruce’s attention!” Jason yelped indignantly, which was when Tim's patience ran out. He stabbed Jason with a tranquilizer, and the man fell over like a sack of bricks.

“Useless,” Damian declared, and that was that.

Tim wasn’t sure how he felt about the newest addition to their family. He'd come home prepared to accept Bruce's and Dick’s ire over the fresh bite on his neck, and was completely unprepared for Dick's bombshell of _Oops, didn’t I tell you we had a son? Who is alive and not dead like I thought? Oh and I finally let Bruce bite me, no big deal, I see you have your own bite, please bring Kon over so we can ‘talk’ to him, ha ha ha, thanks Tim._

Dick’s obvious joy at having his baby boy back was the only good thing to come out of that that shit show. Damian was a  _menace,_ and Tim would've felt bad squabbling with a ten-year-old if said ten-year-old wasn't a vicious, murderous ninja. Which wasn't actually the kid's fault, but Tim felt more sympathy for Dick than anyone else. Especially the whole pregnant at sixteen thing.

He’d immediately narrowed his eyes at the family alpha once that came out. Seriously, Bruce. _Seriously._

“Hey, I’m almost there. Ready to go?” Kon’s voice over his cell phone snapped Tim out of his reverie _. Right_ , he was supposed to be sweating in worry. Who cares about the demon baby sucking up all of Dick’s time? He's got bigger problems to deal with. Like this.

“C’mon, Tim, it’s gonna be fine,” Kon said once he landed at the Wayne Manor entrance. Tim glared but let Superboy sweep him into his arms without protest. “It’s not like you haven’t met.”

“Yes, all our encounters so far have been excellent,” Tim said. “Shooting at one another and trying to disassemble his weapons of mass destructions, what a lovely way to bond with Lex fucking Luthor.”

“I made Mum promise to keep WMDs out of conversation,” Kon assured him, which wasn’t a reassurance at all.

Seriously, having dinner with the Kents was so laughably easy compared to this. Ma and Pa Kent were charming in a way only country folk could be, and Tim had already known Clark and Kara enough that conversation came easily.

But _Lex Luthor_?

“Timothy,” Luthor grinned when Tim and Kon finally arrived at the LexCorp penthouse. Tim swept his hair back and straightened up to his full height, which was still shorter than both the other men. It was more of a symbolic gesture, honestly. “How excellent to see you out of costume for once.”

“Luthor,” Tim responded stiffly. “How excellent to see you not planning my death for once.”

Luthor just smirked at him.

Tim threw Kon a desperate look, but his mate seemed oblivious to the threats volleying between the two omegas.

“Dinner is in ten,” Luthor said conversationally. “It’ll be interesting to learn more about my son’s mate in more civilized company.”

“Kon, if you mother poisons me...” Tim hissed once Luthor waltzed out of the room, which was when the alpha finally caught on. He put a warm hand to Tim’s back and tugged him closer.

“Relax,” Kon soothed him. “Mum’s not going to _poison you_. He’s still grateful you brought me back in one piece, you know. I mean, if it wasn’t for us being on opposite sides, I think he’d like you for your brains.”

“God, I hope not,” Tim said in horror, and resolved to send Bruce a coded text just in case he fell face-first into his crème brulee. Namely, to not let Damian anywhere near his stuff in the event of his death because the brat was going to ruin _everything_.

Kon just patted his back in sympathy, and Tim swore revenge.

\--

The revenge came about two weeks later. Sweet, sweet, surprisingly-Damian-instigated revenge.

“Who are you,” the brat had prowled around Kon the moment he’d entered the sitting room. He narrowed his eyes at the half-Kryptonian and glanced between him and Tim. “Ah. The fake son’s mate. Your resemblance to the alien suggests you are the clone I have heard about. A fake boy for a fake son—how fitting.”

“Damian,” Tim had snapped, but Kon seemed more baffled than angry.

“Wow, you’re nothing like Dick,” the teenager said—unaware of the can of worms he’d just unleashed.

Dick came vaulting down the stairs the moment the screams started, just in time to see his son unsuccessfully chucking a piece of kryptonite at Superboy. Unsuccessful because Tim had smacked away the offending object with his bo-staff and then used said staff to beat Damian over the head.

“Enough!” Nightwing had shouted over the commotion, and everyone had immediately frozen. Everyone except for Damian, whom Nightwing had to stomp over and grab by the waist to stop him from suffocating Tim with a pillow. “Damian, what have I told you about Bats not killing?”

“He insulted my honor!” Damian shouted defiantly.

Kon put up his hands in bewilderment. “ I just said he wasn’t like you!”

“Damian,” Dick sighed—and the boy stopped wriggling and glared around in embarrassed anger. Dick had magical powers, no question about it. “You’re my son no matter what anyone says. But you still can’t _throw kryptonite_ at people.”

“I’m doing the fake son a service,” Damian muttered, crossing his arms and turning away. “If he cannot see the resemblance between us, than he is undeserving of Drake’s affections.”

“I don’t know if I should be touched or insulted,” Tim said. Dick released Damian while turning to address the younger omega, and the boy took the opportunity to flee back to his room. Good lord, _one_ Bruce was already a handful.

“Damian’s having a hard time adjusting,” Dick apologized to a resigned Tim and a still-confused Kon. “Trying to figure out where he fits in this family. It’s why he’s especially sensitive when people question his heritage. I’d like to say he’d the most difficult challenge you had to face today, but…”

“Bruce,” he and Tim said at the same time. Kon paled.

Dick put a sympathetic hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Remember, Timmy. Play your cards right, and it's one ball cut off and not two.”

“What does that mean?” Kon whispered furiously once Nightwing had flipped back up the staircase to go and console an undoubtedly sulking Damian. He paled even further when Tim just shook his head and refused to respond. “What does that mean? Tim!”

\--

“We have a full set of surgical equipment in the Bat Cave,” Bruce informed the other alpha in an even tone over the pot roast. “I can give you a tour of it all after dinner.”

“Uh—no thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Kon stammered, and Tim could just _see_ the moment his poor mate realized exactly what Dick had meant. The alpha shrank under Bruce’s unwavering stare and focused his attention on Alfred’s amazing cooking. The butler had once again outdone himself, and Tim would have been more appreciative if the atmosphere over the dinner table wasn’t so awkward.

“Nonsense. I’m curious to see what you’ve learned at the farm,” Bruce continued. He stabbed a particularly thick cut of roast, pink juices gushing from the point of impact. “There must be a lot of similarities between butchering an animal and conducting complex surgery.”

“Bruce!” Tim hissed in mortification, and Dick, the utter _bastard_ , just burst out laughing rather scold his alpha into behaving himself. Probably because Bruce so rarely responded to scoldings, and Dick had developed a 'let the little things go' attitude after wrestling with Bruce's problems for so long.

If the Batman poisoned Kon with Kryptonite downstairs, Tim was going to _throw a fit_.

“Would you care for more tea, Mister Kent,” Alfred asked the younger alpha in a dry voice, and Tim put his head in his hands.

\--

After Kon had flown back to Metropolis with a near-permanent look of horror on his face, Tim stalked up to Bruce's room.

Unfortunately, Bruce had done the smart thing and hidden himself away. All Tim found in the master bedroom was Dick sprawled across the bed sending Roy Harper funny cat videos.

"We just care about you," Dick said when Tim crossed his arms and fumed down at his adoptive brother.

“You just like seeing me squirm,” Tim corrected. He crawled onto the bed and shoved Dick over so they could lie side-by-side. These videos weren't even that funny. Roy apparently agreed with Tim’s assessment, because a few minutes later Dick received an email with the subject title “SERIOUSLY ROB STOP SENDING ME THESE” and then another email titled “DEMON BABY PLAY DATE” which had Tim worried about poor Lian and her mental health.

And then he worried about his own mental health when Dick turned to him and said in a conversational tone: “So Tim, I was thinking it'd help Damian feel like a part of the family if we gave him the Robin title.”

“ _What_ ,” Tim yelped, caught off-guard. "You can't do that!"

"I can't, you're right. I'm asking you to," Dick tugged the now glaring omega against his side. "Robin's a Boy Wonder thing, y'know? You're seventeen. Almost an adult. Me and Jay, it was around this time we re-envisioned ourselves—"

"You got _pregnant,_ Jason _died,_ no one re-envisioned anything!"

"—'cause let me tell you, you don't want to get stuck in Bruce's shadow forever," Dick ignored Tim's comment, because at least one of them was the mature one here.

"But I don't want to," Tim said petulantly. Robin had been a part of him for so long. He didn't want to give it up, especially not to a brat like Damian Wayne.

"Just think about it, Tim," Dick sighed, and let Tim bury his face into his shoulder like he was twelve again. Dick had always smelled sweet and soft and comforting, the best family omega a boy could ask for. He'd taught Tim how to be Robin, to deal with Bruce's moods and to be a quick-witted detective; he'd also taught Tim what it meant to be an omega, to wrangle an alpha into obedience and to use comfort to his advantage. Tim remembered how desperately he'd clung to Dick in the days following his mother's death and his father's hospitalization; how desperately he wanted to be accepted somewhere.

It physically hurt him to admit it, but he supposed Damian was feeling the same way. But just because he was older didn't mean he needed his adoptive family any less.

"If I'm not Robin, than who am I," he mumbled against Dick's sleeve while the older omega tapped out a quick message to Roy explaining how these cat videos were the best things ever and Roy was being a killjoy. Dick hit send and ruffled Tim's hair fondly.

"You're my little brother, Timmy," the man said. "And I'll always love you."

" _Emotional blackmail_ ," Tim hissed, but knew from the way Dick smiled that he'd already lost.

\--

“You’ll always be _my_ Robin,” Kon greeted an exhausted Tim crawling through his apartment window that night. Tim sighed and fell onto the couch, letting the alpha hug him around the waist. “My serious little Robin.”

“My ridiculous, perverted clone boy,” Tim responded, and smiled when Kon wrestled him into his lap. "Just how I like you."

“We'll come up with a new costume for you," Kon promised, and traced his alpha-teeth right where he’d bitten Tim weeks ago. "And a kickass name. Inspire fear in Gotham, show the Bat and his new little Robin who's boss."

"We all know Alfred's the boss," Tim laughed, but cupped the back of Kon’s head and pressed their mouths together in appreciation. When they broke for breath, Tim nuzzled his cheek.

“Don't wanna think about this anymore," he murmured. Kon wrapped his arms around his waist and huffed when Tim rolled his hips down. "Help me forget?"

"Love it when you're honest," the alpha purred, and gently pushed a grinning Tim down onto the couch. Tim wrapped his arms around those broad shoulders and kept grinning, because here in Kon's arms he knew for sure that everything was going to be all right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since neither Kon nor Bruce are dead in this AU, I think Tim would be a bit more willing to give Damian the Robin mantle. Also because Dick asked him to this time. I dunno, this whole thing is so off canon it's barely holding itself together, haha. 
> 
> Jason makes another cameo; he seems doomed to never get his own limelight in my universes. Sorry Jaybird!
> 
> Thanks for reading~


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